


A Pair of Wings

by undeadrabbit



Series: Despite My Moral and Ethical Objections, I Must Admit These Are Submissions for Shuake Week 2019 [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: AU, Angel/Demon Sex, BDSM, Body Worship, Daddy Kink, Master/Slave, Nonbinary Character, One-Sided Attraction, Other, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Whipping, but for angels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 13:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeadrabbit/pseuds/undeadrabbit
Summary: A fallen angel must find a [deadly sin] to fully remove their wings.





	A Pair of Wings

**Pride**

Another fallen angel.

Akira picks up the poor thing, tied and unconscious, and brings them back to their lair. Ann and Ryuji help him, while the rest of his friends watch on, curious. They'd all been fallen angels at some point or another, kicked out of the cult Heaven had become for gaining their own individuality. They're too far down to do anything about it though; the only ways back up are if a higher up was looking, and they seldom are. Besides, even if they  _ could  _ get up there, what would they do? 

For now, they free the angel from their restraints and lay them down on a fluffy mattress in Akira's bedroom. They looked beautiful, if Akira was being honest; silky skin and soft, butterscotch hair. Akira touched the side of their cheek before pulling away suddenly. He shouldn't.

It was a rule they made down here; no forcing others into things. No coercion. Only persuasion. If the angel wanted to leave, then they'd let them. There are other places in Hell anyway; though the angel's lucky they ended up here instead. At least they had a fighting chance if it came to it; the other communities aren't as nice.

The rest of the group of friends disband, off to find others that have fallen. They give Akira some winks and a few nudges, then leave while snickering.

Akira sighs, pink dusting his cheeks.

The angel is a natural beauty, androgynous and utterly flawless. Akira honestly has a hard time looking away. Like most angels that fall down here, this angel was sparsely clothed, only sporting enough interconnecting leather straps to cover their chest and genitals. The vertical belt that loops between their legs and keeps the other straps in place connect to a collar around their neck. There's a chain leash, too.

Again, Akira blushes and nervously adjusts his cravat and blazer. It's rude to think of the angel so lustfully already.

Akira keeps his hands behind his back as he studies the angel. They don't seem to be in pain anywhere, meaning the angel was stronger than their appearance suggests. Seeing this, Akira studies the wings; they're particularly downy and soft-looking (Akira refused to touch), but well-kept and pure white, save for the beginnings of a black tint to the feathered tips. Not a lot of corruption by Yaldabaoth's standards as Akira remembered it. Maybe they were getting stricter. Maybe Yaldabaoth's power was waning.

Stepping back, Akira takes a seat on a plush chair near the bed and picks up a nearby book. The book has a fascinating plot from what he knows, but Akira can't concentrate on it. He’s too distracted by bittersweet memories of when he was found in those same garments and near-black wings. He forgets why he was condemned and banished out of heaven, but he fell all the same. The fall itself didn't feel so long, and it didn't hurt as much as suddenly being abandoned.

The community here worked with him; helped him out of the haze Yaldabaoth put him in. They showed him the "deadly sins" as decreed by the fake god and eventually the wings fell off. It was a long time ago but Akira still remembers the feeling of relief like it was just yesterday. When the poison that filled his veins finally drained out of him. The drug that kept them complacent, kept them in that  _ cult,  _ until one day Akira just woke up enough to become a fallen angel.

Yaldabaoth is leading a hive mind, but for what purpose, Akira can't begin to fathom.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of sheets shifting. Akira looks up from the book he was staring at, meeting a pair of frantic garnet ones. The angel immediately takes on a more guarded stance, wings spread as if to intimidate. Akira's demon ones fold tight as he gets to his feet and raises his hands in surrender, lowering himself even as the angel begins to stand on the bed. They calm down a little, but their stare is still wary and their wings flex.

"I've fallen," they say.

Akira nods. "We rescued you."

Akira knows he hit a nerve when the angel hops down, wings wide open and hands curled into fists, the very picture of anger. "Shut it, you _demon. _What would you know? This was a _mistake."_

Akira doubts that, but he can't force the angel to stay. "You're free to leave."

The angel's wings fold a fraction and their face takes on a more confused look. Then, the anger flares back up. "You're letting me leave, just like that? You didn't touch me, did you? I ought to rip your throat out—"

"Only to carry you here." Akira holds up his hands in continued surrender. This angel was… hard to talk to. One of the ones more entrenched in the cult; addicted to the drug, maybe. "I didn't touch you beyond carrying you here and untying your restraints."

"What a snake! You absolute  _ snake!" _

"What?" Akira is genuinely confused.

"I wouldn't have  _ restraints.  _ I'm—" they falter. "I'm an  _ elite. _ I didn't… I didn't do anything to warrant getting thrown out with  _ your  _ kind. I didn't do anything  _ wrong. _ "

"Why don't you see for yourself? You're free to leave." Akira pauses. "You're also free to come back."

They give him an annoyed frown; even their feathers ruffle. "Are you insinuating that I'm down to  _ your  _ level?"

Akira wants to say yes; it's obvious they'd been kicked out for having an ego or something of the sort; maybe even just being annoying. Instead he says, "It's just a precaution. If things don't go well, you're welcome back here. It's just an offer."

The angel fixes him with an irritated look. They huff, and without another word, they fling open the bedroom window and take flight.

**Wrath**

Two days.

The angel had been gone for two days.

In those two days, Akira legitimately thought he had it all wrong. Maybe it  _ was  _ an accident. Maybe that angel  _ was  _ a highly respected elite. Maybe Yaldabaoth started accepting repeals or something.

No—it turns out, the angel was too humiliated to come back. That is, until they started getting hungry. It was Haru who found them on the premises, and the other demons had to vacate just to get the angel inside the complex again, too ashamed to ask for help from anyone else.

Now, the angel sits on the same bed as before, curled up in their own little bubble of depression, a piece of bread between cherry lips in the form of a pout.

Akira sets the plate with the rest of the sandwich on a table. He completely forgot Yaldabaoth's angels are only allowed bread. Carefully, Akira slides the second piece out from under the turkey slices and offers it to the angel. "Would you like another?"

The angel doesn't answer. Akira leaves the piece of bread on the plate, away from the meat. One thing at a time, he supposes. With a soft sigh, he sits at the edge of the bed instead, where the angel stays virtually unmoving.

"Hey, I've been there. It feels lonely, doesn't it?"

No answer.

"Feeling like you had a family to support you, but suddenly they just throw you out…" Akira looks down at his gloved hands. "I remember when I first came here. All I had were Sojiro, Futaba, Ann and Ryuji. They helped me get myself together."

No reaction.

"They'll help you too. So will Yusuke, Makoto, and Haru. You're not alone. You don't have to trust us all at once. Trusting again is going to be hard, but we're here for you.  _ I'm  _ here for you."

No response. The angel lowers their head.

"It hurts. And I get it. But you're not alone, okay? All of us are here to help. You just have to—"

"Oh my god, shut  _ up!" _

Just as quickly as they shouted, the angel slaps both hands over their mouth, dropping the piece of bread onto the bed in the process. Akira, shocked, can only watch the angel's face as they struggle to keep their emotions in check. They curl up even more, hiding their face again as they pick up the bread and munch on it morosely.

Akira actually shuts up for a bit. Newly fallen angels were usually less… angry at the cult for being cast out. Arrogant sure, there were some arrogant angels back when Akira was still one. As long as their ego never took precedence over Yaldabaoth it was acceptable; when Akira was there at least.

Wrath is… less common. Though, Akira supposes that if the angel really  _ was  _ an elite, more things slipped through the radar—purposefully or not. A newly fallen having  _ both  _ wrath and pride is new for Akira.

But also, it makes his job much easier.

"Hey, uh—" Akira pauses, realizing he never got a name. "Sorry, what's your name?"

"I'm not giving you my name,  _ demon." _

Akira glosses over that. "If you're angry, you should let it out."

The angel looks at him then, aghast. "No! I'm not—I will not!" They huff, but their expression seems less resolute. “Anger is… unnecessary. I can control it.”

Akira doubts that. “You don’t  _ have  _ to. You’re not part of that cult anymore.”

“It’s wasn’t—!” The angel falters, going quiet. They must have had a lot of time to think—a lot of time to get angry. Yet still the wrath dies down a little and they deflate; their wings fold around them. “Maybe it  _ was  _ but—”

“They kicked you out for the little black tint at the tips of your wings.”

The angel gets a more conflicted look and looks away. “It wasn’t…” They cover their face. “I did everything… I thought I—why would they… it was just such a small…”

“They never really cared about you,” Akira says, coming closer. “They just wanted to use you for as long as possible. Forever, if they could. But when they saw they couldn't keep controlling you—"

_ "Shut it!" _ The angel sounds heartbroken, their rage giving way to pain. "They can't just—not me! Why me? I worked so  _ hard!" _

"We've all been there."

"No! I was—!" Their eyes shine with unshed tears. "I was…"

"You were betrayed."

The angel curls into themself, wings covering them from view. Akira still hears their soft crying.

**Envy**

Their name is Goro Akechi.

When they said they were "one of the elites", Akira didn't think they meant one of Yaldabaoth's  _ chosen. _ Hearing this, Akira suddenly understands the other's turmoil.

Yaldabaoth is upfront about favoritism, choosing angels to stay by his side almost like a decoration, free of labor; a permanent, subservient model that other angels were expected to be like amidst horrible working and living conditions. Heaven is…dystopian in that sense. It appeals to base instincts of wanting to be accepted and loved; so Yaldabaoth chooses an angel that embodies submission and lavishes that angel with 'love'. It's less for the angel and more for creating a craving among the rest. It's natural to desire being chosen; it's natural to desire it so much, stepping all over others in a bid to achieve it also becomes natural.

Akira remembers falling into that trap, of being another one of the many faceless angels that tried to embody an ideal, for a right they didn't know was taken away. Artificial deprivation of affection is surprisingly effective in that way; but he can't help hating that side of himself.

Thinking back… heaven was never about community. It was scrambling to dethrone the next best thing; the chosen. It was chaotic and surreal.

"I _ envied _ the chosen, all of them," Goro says, venom in their voice. Akira nods as he listens to Goro. "I was always pushed aside because of my sinful heritage, so I wanted to see them at my feet. At _ our  _ feet. Even if it was wrong, I envied all of them. I wanted to be noticed, to be  _ praised _ , to be…”

Akira thinks he understands. "Well, you were betrayed."

"Don't rub it in."

"I'm not." Akira stands from the bed. "More importantly, what do you want to do now?"

Goro watches the Akira, something like helplessness in their gaze. Lost and empty, the wrath giving in so quickly to something more despondent as they talked. Goro flexes their wings, gingerly taking one of the barely-black feather tips.

Then softly, they say: “I want to take these wings off.”

"You sure?"

They shrug. "I can't go back anyway."

**Greed**

Poison wings; forever producing drugs that Yaldabaoth could use as a means of control. A kind of tool for enforcing a panopticon and gaslighting.

How the wings work is beyond their scope, but what’s  _ important  _ is that there’s a way to take them off, and it involves exposing each sin to them and… Well, see which one sticks; any other way just kills them. It’s different for each angel that comes by, but it’s always boiled down to how they processed the act. Thanks to Yaldabaoth being such a control freak, some of the tamest acts like eating something else other than  _ bread  _ is enough to shock the system. Breaking the rules is all that's needed yo get out of it.

Goro already had pride, and Goro’s experienced wrath. Neither has stuck enough to get the wings to turn black. It must be something else, then. Akira decides to start with greed; simply because if Goro’s proud of being chosen, then it isn’t much of a leap for them to learn to decorate their body, right? 

Yaldabaoth—supposedly—gave them perfect bodies, and so, they need only wear the bare minimum to showcase Yaldabaoth’s creation or whatever. Akira honestly forgot the nuances of the doctrine already, but he’s sure it’s along those lines. Giving Goro expensive, good looking clothes might be enough to turn their wings black, especially if they were chosen.

For this, Akira enlisted the help of Yusuke and Ann, the two who really have an eye for these things. They stand in a large, circular dressing room Ann has, with mirrors lining the circumference. Goro stands in the middle, on a platform for them to see.

"Oh, they have such pretty red eyes," Ann gushes.

"Perfect hair, too." Yusuke circles the angel. "Finding garments for them would be easy."

Goro stands still wings folded and hands linked, obedient and unmoving. They watch the other two carefully as the pair circle them, looking them over. They shift under the piercing gazes of Ann and Yusuke, but otherwise don't say anything.

Then, Ann and Yusuke pull Akira aside.

"Almost anything would suit them!" Ann claps her hands together. "Oh but, are they ready? If we expose them too early we might…"

Yusuke looks to Akira. "You assessed them, yes?"

"Yeah… the thing about them is…" Should Akira tell them? He probably should. "Goro is… well, they  _ were  _ a chosen."

Ann gasps loud and surprise colors Yusuke's normally calm visage. Ann looks between them and Akira, confusion front and center. "What did they do to get kicked out…? Did you ask? Why don't we start with that?"

"I don't know, but…" Akira looks at the angel, who stares back at him. "I don't want to ask them. It seems sensitive. And it's not like they might be willing to get into the thing that got them kicked so soon."

Yusuke hums. "Akira has a point."

Ann nods. "I guess… we'll just see what happens?"

"We'll  _ wing  _ it."

Neither dignify Yusuke with a response.

They pick out a plethora of clothes from Ann's wardrobe first while Yusuke leaves to get some from his. Goro resists at first, but with enough coaxing they comply and soon becomes a doll they dress up with all manner of clothes. There's long dresses that give Goro an air of regality to short skirts that barely cover the leather belts over their crotch. Goro puts them on only to squirm out of it, uncomfortable with so much. They seem to like the black elbow length gloves, though.

By the time Yusuke comes back, Goro has taken to jewelry quite well, followed by black stockings that reach their upper thighs. They mix and match whatever Yusuke has before settling on a sleeveless white button up and a dark purple vest with intricate French curves. Yusuke fixes a golden brooch necktie, while Ann gives them intricate hand jewelry, also in gold.

When they step away, the only patches of skin visible on the angel are their slender neck, their shoulders and their soft, milky flesh between stockings and chastity belt. Behind them, their wings are a touch blacker at the ends, but not enough to convince Akira that greed is the key.

Akira calls Haru and Sojiro.

**Gluttony**

Demons stare at Goro as they walk to LeBlanc. Inevitable, given the almost pure white of Goro's wings. Pure white wings were rare; and also a sign of the kind of people they didn't usually like having around. Goro notices this and sticks close to Akira; once or twice they take a hold of Akira's arm when startled by something, too. Akira can't help smiling at the other, fond. 

They're cute.

Goro doesn't return the look, instead finding something else to watch, but Akira can still see the beginnings of a blush. Adorable. Akira can't help running his own gloved hand over the angel's arm, reaching to their shoulder in a light, teasing caress.

The angel stiffens and Akira immediately stops; yet their arms still remain wrapped around Akira's, long black gloves and gold jewelry contrasting the dark red of his blazer. Akira can't help noticing too that Goro's brooch was identical to Akira's; in fact, a lot of the gold accents in Goro's admittedly sparse attire complements Akira's own gold. Even their dark purple and black matches  _ his _ red and black. A coincidence to be sure, but one that makes them look like a couple.

Akira isn't totally opposed to the idea though. The angel  _ is  _ attractive, after all.

When they get to LeBlanc, the cafe is filled with the scent of freshly baked pastries. Haru and Sojiro pop out of the kitchen to set down glazed croissants on a table already full of pastries. Akira takes notice of Haru's near black wings; blacker than Akira remembers. 

"Hey, they're almost off."

Haru nods enthusiastically. "I've been working hard in LeBlanc. And I finally decided on a gender!"

"Oh, that's great! What gender?"

Haru hums. "I believe Mako-chan called it 'femme'? Hm, I don't really mind what it's called, and I don't mind playing a woman, and that's what matters I think."

Between the two, Goro tilts their head, a thousand questions clearly running through their head. Akira decides not to tackle the case of  _ gender  _ too early (especially not to someone who's recently come from a society where only one was accepted). Instead, he gestures to Haru. "Goro, this is Haru."

"What's a 'woman'?"

Akira winces. "That's a multifaceted question, but for now think of them as people who would like it if you used 'she' or 'her' instead of 'they' or 'them'. Just like I go by 'he' or 'him'."

Goro gets a look. Akira knows that look. "You don't have to understand Goro, you just need to respect it."

The angel doesn't say anything else. Haru stretches out a hand, which Goro takes. "It's nice to meet you, Goro. I'm learning how to cook here in LeBlanc, so you'll be trying my food today!"

Goro nods, stiff. Their eyes linger on the black wings. They don't ask anything and instead, on Akira's instruction, sit at the table. As expected, they start with the most bread-like thing there; the croissants. They nibble at first, slowly; then they take more substantial bites. Next thing anyone knows, the croissants are gone.

Goro moves on to the other pastries; doughnuts, danishes, cream rolls… they have a surprisingly large appetite and take to eating sweets very well. Yet the corruption only spreads past the first row of feathers. Sojiro tries serving them curry, ramen, pasta, anything farther than bread, but it doesn't help either. The black of the wings hardly advance any further.

Haru and Sojiro look lost. Goro doesn't have any space for more food. Gluttony isn't it either.

Could it be because Goro processes this differently? Taking the wings off relied on the angel feeling a sense of taboo, of  _ rebellion;  _ is it possible that as far as Goro's concerned, he's still not doing something taboo?

But how could  _ that  _ be? Goro was socialized into a needlessly dogmatic society; how could they break dogma and  _ still  _ feel like they weren't rebelling in some way? Logically speaking, their wings should have gone  _ hours  _ ago.

Either way, Haru, Sojiro, Ann and Yusuke bid them goodbye, confused but determined. Akira is too, and so he takes them back to Akira's house. They make themselves comfortable on the plush couch Akira has, sitting properly but casually. Akira sits on the other end of the couch, quiet, mulling over what to do next.

"My wings are blacker now," Goro says.

Akira nods. "Not as tainted as it should be, though. When Haru first came here, cooking something disallowed from Heaven was enough to get the wings mostly black… yet we're five sins down and nothing has really helped…"

Was there something Akira was missing? He looks to Goro, who only stares back. It's probably the way they processed things, Akira has to think.

"Goro?"

"Yes?"

"Could you walk me through your thought process?" When Goro gives him a look, Akira tacks on: "the wings only come off if you do something you believe is 'bad'; usually something taboo by Heavens standards. As it stands, the only other thing we can try is  _ lust. _ "

Goro gets an uncomfortable look. They shift a little, squirming in place, standing straighter and squeezing their legs together.

"W-well… we haven't tried sloth yet."

"Highly unlikely; sloth is hard to define outside of the workshop that is Heaven. Besides, technically speaking, you're already being exposed to sloth. You're not trying to get back into Heaven; nor are you doing whatever the fuck Yaldabaoth wants you to do."

Goro frowns. "Don't talk about him like that."

Stare. "Yaldabaoth?"

"Yes."

_ Stare.  _ "Why?"

Goro gets that uncomfortable look. The same look Akira has seen on many fallen angels. Knowing the list of deadly sins like the back of his hand, Akira doesn't quite like where this is going. Open mind, Akira; open mind.

"Goro, why were you kicked out?"

A blush blooms all over their face and they leap to their feet. "That's none of your business!"

"I guess not." Akira stares. "But if we're gonna get those off—"

"No!" Black veins start crawling up feathery white. "I-I don't need to get these off. It's  _ fine!  _ We can just… I can just keep eating Haru's food!" Goro trembles as they hug themself. "I don't need to—I don't need to do anything  _ risque… _ "

Akira can't help it. "So what exactly about him is a turn on?"

"Shut it!"

"Is it the multiple armed god form? Or the slender human one?"

_ "Shut it!" _

"Oh! I bet it's the  _ long, phallic no—" _

Before Akira can finish his sentence, he's tackled and held by the lapels of his blazer. He's met with burning garnet eyes, and bared teeth, trapped by the angel against the backrest. "Shut  _ up! _ Just shut up! I don't want to hear it, I don't want to hear  _ anything  _ you have to say! I don't have—I'm not  _ perverted!" _

Their wings tell a different story, as a spider web of black steadily crawls up their wings. They seem to realize the futility in trying to convince Akira otherwise and a shameful flush takes over their features. They lower their head and Akira thinks he hears the tears in their voice.

"I'm good. I can be  _ good.  _ I just… These thoughts are the only thing I can't control… If I can control them I… I just need to fight it. I just need to be good, and…"

"Goro?"

They actually begin crying again. The hold they have on Akira's blazer weakens until they fall to their sides. They pull away and sink onto the floor instead, steadily blackening wings covering their form. Oh, poor angel.

"Goro, hey…" 

Goro doesn't respond, but Akira goes on anyway. "Hey whatever your thoughts are, they don't make you a bad person What you feel for Yaldabaoth is… unorthodox, sure, but it doesn't make you  _ bad." _

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

When it becomes apparent Goro doesn't intend to respond, Akira kneels next to Goro, a comforting hand on their back. "I'm here to help, Goro. In this part of Hell, thoughts and ideas are just that. They're not crimes."

That gets Goro to unfold their wings, revealing their morose expression. Then softly, they say; "I touched myself."

"Huh?"

"You asked what I did to get kicked out. I touched myself."

Oh.

Well, considering what Goro's kinks are, touching themself while a chosen isn't so strange. Akira can see now why Goro was banished so fast; the topic of sex in Heaven was…something to be ashamed of. Something to suppress, like it wasn't at all something that came naturally. Anything to do with it was banned and then shamed. One of the many peeves Akira has with Heaven, to be honest. Obsessed with purity, that they'd allow large scale corruption for some Platonic ideal. It was a culture built on humiliation and condemnation.

"Goro, listen, you're out of that toxic environment now. You don't have to feel guilty about it—"

"But I am!" The angel yells, curling into themself more. They squeeze their legs again and hide even further "I feel so guilty, but I… still I…"

… oh. 

"Goro, I want to help you. I want to help you come to terms with your thoughts. So, if you're okay with it, tell me what you want right now."

Their voice is quiet, but Akira hears it clearly: "Punishment."

**Sloth**

Punishment for being 'bad'. For having 'bad thoughts'. For wanting to be depraved and…still good. Goro wanted to be both but couldn't reconcile them in his head, wanted to be shown it was possible. With how Heaven ran though, it would be next to impossible; not so soon, at least.

The tricky thing about exposing an angel to lust is that, unlike the others, lust required a lot of trust. Given how condemned the topic of sex is, casual sex just wasn't a concept newly fallen angels like Goro could comfortably grasp.

"So," Akira had said, "I'm not gonna touch you or anything. Then, when you're ready… just tell me, or whoever else you trust."

Time passes.

They get closer; shockingly fast, Akira has to admit. Akira can hold their hand whenever he wants, Akira can peck the side of their cheek and make them blush. Admittedly, the angel had taken to Akira quite quickly; Akira doesn't think of it too much. He's more relieved than anything that Goro is slowly trusting him and the other Thieves.

Akira doesn't mind that Goro has to take time. He doesn't mind the wings at all; especially not when Goro lets him touch the downy feathers. Akira runs fingers up the veins, tracing them, admiring the pattern they make. They advance in small, small increments, but it's become clear that the most effective way is through lust. But Akira doesn't push it. Lust is one of the most invasive sins, and Akira was intent on making sure Goro would be okay with it.

Time passes.

Then one day, when Akira's seated, they suddenly straddle their demon's hips and kiss passionately enough that Akira can't help tightly embracing his angel. The passion is new, and Akira feels a rush of dizziness.

The dizziness grows tenfold when Goro whispers: "I'm ready."

Well, then.

**Lust**

They take it to the bedroom. It's tense, but Goro still goes to the foot of the bed and faces Akira. They're only in the least belts they had when they fell and tight stockings. The stockings, they say, help calm them. Akira isn't about to complain.

Goro trembles. Akira gently takes a hold of Goro's face and pecks their nose. That seems to give Goro courage, and they slowly, carefully, unclip the front of their collar. With that, Goro begins sliding out of the chastity belts and drops them to the floor. They press their legs together, still shy, but Akira can tell their arousal.

"Goro, be a good angel and spread your legs."

Goro jolts and scrambles to do what their told. They take a seat on the bed and, slowly, spread their legs. Akira can't help staring at the cute pink slit surrounded by beautiful, curved petals. Goro covers their mouth and their blush intensifies. Akira moves forward and brushes a thumb over the slit. Goro shudders.

"Such a good angel," Akira coos. "But you've been bad, haven't you?"

Frantically, Goro nods their head.

"Show me how."

Goro startles, but nods again. Inexperienced fingers prod at their labia, then they find the right entrance and their middle finger slips in. Goro lets out a soft moan and stills for a moment before continuing, slipping the finger in and out. The black veins of their wings advance.

Akira watches attentively, feeling his cock harden at the sight. He picks up a riding crop from the table, makes sure Goro sees it. "Naughty angel. You let Yaldabaoth see this?"

"H-he…" Goro has to stop, but doesn't take their finger out. "He left to attend to something and I… his desk, I… did this. And then he saw me—"

"Oh, lucky," Akira murmurs. He spreads Goro's pussy lips apart, admiring the way it glistens with their arousal. Goro lets out a soft gasp that morphs into a moan when Akira slips his finger in then back out. His finger is  _ dripping. _

"Absolutely wet… absolutely  _ naughty.  _ Take your finger out, Goro."

Goro does so, and Akira hits their pussy with the crop. Goro yelps, but pushes their hips back, their upper half sinking to the mattress as if to offer their pussy for punishment. "What were you thinking that time, Goro? Were you hoping he'd see?"

"Y-yes—" a slap, another high yelp. "I wanted… him to take me…"

"Oh? And he didn't like that, did he?"

"N-no—"

Akira hits them again, a lot harder and Goro keens and spasms. Their legs move, hiding their swollen pussy. Akira click his tongue and, forcefully, folds Goro almost in half, their face in-between their knees. Such a flexible, naughty angel. 

He ties their legs to the bed posts, head between them. Like this, Goro can see how they leak, how red and plump their pussy has gotten. Goro can hardly move, and can only watch in anticipation as Akira teases the riding crop over their throbbing arousal. Suddenly, Akira slaps them, harder than before. Goro lets out a filthy, filthy moan that goes straight to Akira's dick. Akira continues whipping their pussy, while they continue to moan and spasm.

Suddenly, at a particularly stinging whip: "My Lord—!"

… They both stop.  _ That  _ wasn't discussed beforehand. Goro watches him, expression conflicted but aroused, and Akira… isn't entirely opposed to being referred to that way. Akira leans in, a possessive hand on their thigh as a thumb plays with the garter of their stockings. "Say that again, Goro?"

The conflicted expression leaves and Goro is left with only arousal in their eyes.  _ “Master." _

Akira dives in and licks a long stripe, before sucking on their clit, causing Goro to release their lewdest, loudest moan yet. "M-master—!"

Akira chuckles against Goro's pussy. "Keep saying that, my little angel."

Goro obeys as Akira licks and sucks on their pussy, the riding crop forgotten as Akira's hands massage their thighs. Through it all, Goro keens and moans, the only words leaving their mouth being wanton variations of “Master”, “Lord”, and whatever else angels called Yaldabaoth.

Akira pushes his tongue in their hole and they almost scream. More vaginal fluid comes out, and Akira notes the slight sweetness of it. Is it all the pastry they’ve eaten? Is it just what they taste like? Akira doesn’t really care, eating them out while lovingly massaging their thighs. Goro writhes, a mess of begging words. Akira hums against Goro’s lips, then sucks hard on Goro’s clit. The angel practically screams and suddenly Akira has to pull away as a stream of clear fluid gushes out, staining Akira’s cravat and bolero.

Goro gasps. “I-I’m so sorry, forgive me, Father—I—”

Akira picks the riding crop and whips Goro’s twitching pussy. A sound somewhere between a high pitched whine and a moan leave their lips. Akira tuts, shaking his head. “Naughty, naughty. You didn’t warn me you were going to come.”

“I’m—I’m sorry—”

A whip.

“I didn’t—!”

Another whip.

“Kn-know!”

Another whip, much harder. Goro cries out and writhes under the riding crop Akira drags up and down, over their arousal and between two, perfect cheeks. “Well, now you know. And as penance for your  _ stupid  _ mistake, Goro,” Akira gives their inner thigh a light slap, “start by undressing me.”

Akira unties them and they quickly right themselves. They clumsily grasp at the dark red bolero and slide it off Akira’s shoulders with an air of desperation he can’t help but chuckle at. They go for the buttons of the black shirt, then the cravat. Akira lets them slip it off and drop it to the ground. Pale fingers trail along Akira’s skin, admiring. Their eyes are half lidded with lust and wonder at the same time; cherry lips press between Akira’s pecs and fingers trail down, almost worshipping. Akira breathes slow, trying to calm down; the worship aspect was… not something Akira expected, but it isn’t unwelcome. Akira lets Goro do their thing, their fingers finding Akira’s belt and undoing it, followed by his pants.

As Akira steps out of the rest of his clothes, he asks: “So Goro, what were your fantasies?” He coaxes the angel on their back and slowly climbs over them. “What did you want Yaldabaoth to do to you?”

Goro breathes heavy, eyes half lidded. “I… didn’t want him to do anything. I wanted to do all the work. I wanted to worship…”

… Akira has to take a moment. He was kind of prepared to use Goro like a fuckdoll, not… 

“My lord?”

Akira doesn’t reply, instead fixing the pillows so he could lean on it. He holds open his arms, inviting the angel to straddle his hips, which they do almost immediately. Akira chuckles good naturedly and runs his fingers through their hair, smiling fondly. He can’t keep the dominating persona for very long; he can’t help wanting to pet the angel. Akira caresses their cheek, lightly presses a thumb to their lips, which part for the digit and suck on it. Goro pulls away to instead lavish Akira’s body in kisses and worshipping touches, from his pecs down to his navel, and then his cock. Akira lays back and sighs in content.

“Oh Holy Father,” Goro whispers against his skin. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect. I want to make you feel good.”

“Do you?”

Goro nods absently, eyes drifting close as they nuzzle Akira’s cock and give it small, butterfly kisses. “May I?”

Akira releases a breath. He can’t help but think Yaldabaoth missed out. He’s glad that fake god is missing out. He nods, and Goro actually smiles bright and begins using both his hands to rub his cock. They even lean down and give the head of his cock kitten licks, getting bolder and bolder with each motion. Akira can’t help but laugh, petting Goro’s head.

Goro’s wings flex, steadily getting blacker and blacker the more comfortable Goro gets doing this. Akira keeps petting their head, encouraging, even saying: “That’s a good angel… You’re a good angel, aren’t you?”

Their lips wrap around the head of his penis, one hand pumping the rest of the shaft while the other drifts between their legs. Akira watched Goro, sexy as they are, fingering themself and still attempting to swallow Akira’s entire cock. They moan around it as they put in more fingers, entire body rocking with the motions. Akira can’t help but groan, tangling his digits into Goro’s hair, encouraging them to keep going.

Goro suddenly pops off and again straddles his hips. This time, Goro grinds against his cock, slow and sensual, and Akira groans at the feel of his cock against their warm, dripping pussy. Goro laughs softly and leans over, a huge grin on their face. “Am I… Am I doing good, master?”

“Amazing,” Akira can’t help saying. “You’re  _ amazing.  _ You’re being so good for me, my good angel…”

“Good… I’m…” 

Goro laughs, carefree, leaning against Akira’s chest. They take Akira’s cock, and line it up— 

“Hey, hey, don’t get so excited.” Akira sits up and holds Goro steady. He’s all too familiar with angels needlessly hurting themselves from lack of experience. “Let me check if you did a good job stretching yourself.”

Goro nods and leans against Akira as he gently dips his fingers into the angel. Goro gasps into his ear and shudders, lets Akira move his fingers around, stretching with scissoring motions and pulling in and out. Goro whines, moving their hips back, muscles clenching and trying to chase Akira’s fingers. Akira laughs. “Is my angel craving for me?”

“Yes! Yes, Father—!”

“Such a good angel, so good, just for me.”

Akira removes his hand and reaches for a condom packet, but Goro holds onto his wrist, stopping him. “I… I don’t…”

Akira stares. “Don’t what?”

“I want…” Goro lets go, trails their fingers down Akira’s chest, then up to their lower stomach. “I want Master… in here… I want Master inside me.” The angel holds his face, garnet eyes full of love and adoration. “I want… I want your children. I want to get pregnant with your children, Master!”

… open mind, Akira tells himself, and his mind flies wide open when Goro lines up and  _ sinks all the way down.  _ He groans, throwing his head back, just as Goro lets out the loudest, lewdest sound that has ever left their lips. Akira holds Goro’s hips flush against his own, panting heavily, overwhelmed by the sudden warmth and the strong muscles squeezing him. Akira has to rest his head on Goro’s chest just to make sense of things. He should pull out, he knows he should pull out and sneak a condom on, but  _ god  _ Goro was so warm, and so soft, and so  _ good. _

Next thing Akira knows, he’s got Goro pinned to the mattress, pounding into the angel without restraint. Goro moans and whines, not quite saying anything beyond singing a wanton hymn for Akira. Their face is of pure bliss, eyes rolled back and mouth in an open smile. Akira hoists one of their legs over his shoulder, pounding deeper. They’re so, so warm, so good, it’s  _ bliss.  _ Absolute bliss. Akira leans down and bites the junction of Goro’s neck and shoulder, sucking on the patch of skin.

Dimly, Akira registers that the wings have gone almost completely black, and it takes all his strength to pull out of Goro (who whines) and flip them over, pounding into them once more. The wings have blackened, almost to the base. Akira grabs onto them, uses them as leverage as he continues thrusting into Goro’s tight heat.

“C-come… coming…!”

Akira leans over, nips Goro’s ear. “Are you? Hah, be a good angel and—hold on… won’t you?”

“O-okay! Okay… good… I’ll be…! Good…!”

Just at that, Akira feels himself about to tip over. He tugs harder at the wings, making Goro’s body arc. He twists the loosening appendages, making Goro moan, and when the black reaches the base Akira  _ pulls. _

The wings come off with a snap and the pain of it seems to add to Goro’s pleasure. Again, they squirt all over Akira, but he doesn’t even mind. Their vaginal walls squeeze him, try to milk him dry, and Akira is so caught in the bliss that he lets it happen. He comes inside Goro (who  _ mewls _ at the sensation), already thinking of the nearest place to get a contraceptive for this.

Eventually, Akira pulls out of Goro, cum dripping out of Goro’s dainty, dripping petals. Akira leans in and gives their trembling pussy a rather sloppy kiss, lightly sucking out the come; not just for the kink (though it was a big factor) but also to lower the chance of an  _ actual  _ pregnancy. Goro lets him, whines as Akira runs his hands up their thighs and sucks on one of their inner lips, savoring their sweet taste. He could just spend a day eating Goro out.

Goro trembles, collapsing on the bed with a whine. They shift to lay on their back, staring up at Akira with a blissed out expression. Already, the poison from the wings start leaking onto the bed.

“Did my angel enjoy that?”

Goro laughs and nods, arms outstretched to try and reach Akira. “My… My Akira…”

Akira’s heart flutters. He bends over the other, smiling, and kisses Goro softly.

**Love**

Goro was born of a sinful mother and a priest father. They were abandoned, even by their parents, left to fend for themselves in a society built for churning out the “perfect” beings. Like all angels, they were “saved” by Yaldabaoth—and Goro fell in love. Yaldabaoth was the only source of love and affection there, as far as Goro was concerned. For a long time, Yaldabaoth was all there was for Goro.

It didn’t matter what the doctrine was. Goro never really believed it. They only followed—followed whatever doctrine needed to be followed, just to find love. Just to fill the emptiness of their own heart. Goro doesn’t care who the god to worship is—not really. They just want to know what it was like to be needed.

Akira likes to think Goro’s a bit more well adjusted now, learning to build up themself first before finding comfort somewhere else. They still have those days, but as time goes on those types of days get fewer and fewer.

In the end, Goro’s wings didn’t fall off from lust, like Akira thought.

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is stupidly well thought out, I almost hate it. Some notes, so this all isn't for nothing:
> 
> -'Angels' and 'Demons' are social constructs enforced by Yaldabaoth. Demons in Akira's "part" of hell comprise mostly of fallen angels. Biologically speaking, they're the same.  
-In fact, Yaldabaoth's angel wings keep the leather ones from growing. For aesthetic reasons.  
-Writing about the cult, I used [Rajneeshpuram](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gwx9nqknu-c) as a reference.


End file.
